Sorry this is a little late, but I had an exam last night and was busy studying for it. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Clary

Of all the places Clary's father could have put her, the cellar was her least favorite. Having spent the better part of three weeks locked in dark, tied to a bed, starving, Clary was not pleased to have returned there. The moment Valentine tossed her into the small room in the back of cellar, her mind was overcome with images of the past: struggling to breathe, gasping in pain at her broken bones, and the horrible sinking feeling that no matter what she did, there was no way out-the feeling of failure. She groped aimlessly in the dark, trying to find a wall to hold her up, but instead, something soft and warm snatched her hand and then pulled her in.

Jace is here. An overwhelming sense of relief spread through her. Jace is here with you this time and he's not going away. He won't let Valentine hurt you. Clary allowed him to support her across the room and she felt him groping for the bed that had used to be her only comfort. He helped her to sit and she flopped down, a pain igniting in her broken wrist. Well, hurt you anymore.

"Are you alright?" he asked at the sound of her gasp. "Where does it hurt?"

"It's just my wrist," Clary said blandly. "What about you? You were bleeding pretty badly before…"

Jace chucked in the dark and joined her on the bed. "Just a split lip."

The two sat for a moment, considering their position. The bright side was that Luke, Magnus, Simon, and the Lightwoods had escaped and would surely be rallying an army to combat Valentine; the consequence of that, though, was that Valentine had found out their plan. He was shipping Clary and Jace off to the country and no longer trusted Jocelyn, their main source of protection and advocate for their cause in his household. Overall, it was not quite the victory they had planned for the night.

"Do you know where he's sending us?" Clary asked tentatively. They had destroyed Wayland Manor, and Valentine had destroyed Fairchild Manor, so that left very few options. "Did he have another household?"

"Not that I knew of," Jace shrugged, "but he also didn't have this town house before. I'm assuming he's appropriated one of the nicer manor houses for himself."

"Why's he sending us there?"

This time, Jace was quiet, and Clary knew he was trying to think of the best answer that wouldn't worry her. "He…never liked being in the public eye when I was young; I suppose that's because he didn't want people knowing he was alive. However, being out in the country served his purpose as well; he could train me without any interference."

Interference? You mean no one to see how horribly he treated you? "He's sending us out there so he can treat us however he wants and no one will stop him."

"That's possible," Jace sighed. "I also think he's angry with your mother, and wants to punish her. He's separating the two of you in the worst way, because she knows what he'll do to you, but has no one way of stopping it."

Clary felt anger bubble up inside her. "If he hurts my mom, I swear to the Angel I'll make him pay."

Jace considered Jocelyn's current predicament. "He won't kill her, I doubt he'll even physically hurt her. I think he's very angry because he feels like she's betrayed him, and he'll want revenge for that."

"Jace, did you really know about those herbs?"

Again, Jace was quiet a moment. "I did. She let it slip to me one night, she was frantic, Clary, terrified of what Valentine might do if she was pregnant. She knew you'd be in exponentially more danger if she had another child; it's part of the reason she approved so much of our engagement. It meant that you were tied to me now, so even if she had a child, it might have offered you a bit of protection."

"Do you think Valentine wants more children?" Clary asked softly, her hands clamped into fists. "Clearly, my mom doesn't, but what if he does?"

Jace, always chivalrous, always considerate, flinched away from the idea of the man he had considered his father forcing his wife to give him more children. "I don't know what he'll do, Clary. If Jocelyn has another child, it'll give him the advantage he needs over you; Jocelyn can't risk a baby, but she can't risk you either. She might have to concede herself to Valentine."

"No," said Clary firmly. She'd grown up as an only child, been raised as an only child, only ever been the sole person of Jocelyn's love and attention, but she had always wondered what it might have been like to have a brother or sister. But this, this plan of Valentine's, sickened her. "I hope he can't have kids anymore; I hope all those experiments he did to himself made it impossible."

Jace draped an arm over Clary's shoulder and leaned back on the bed. It was uncomfortable and jabbed him, and he wondered how Clary could have lain here for so long. "Clary, I hope to the Angel he doesn't make Jocelyn have more children, but it seems the sort of thing he would do, doesn't it?"

Clary refused to lie back with Jace, she just couldn't, not with all the memories she had. Instead, she leaned against the wall and let Jace hold her hand. As she drifted off to sleep, her only thought was what the morning might bring, and where her life was now taking her.

"Clary, wake up." It was Jace's voice in her ear, but there were other sounds too; she could hear feet shuffling, voices murmuring, and the jangle of keys. "Sounds like Valentine is coming to get us."

Clary was alert at once, tensed for whatever fight might come, and wondering if there was some way for her to escape Valentine's grasp and get to her mom one last time. She bit her lips, placing her feet on the ground, but it was pointless, for the moment Valentine opened the door, light poured in and Clary was blinded momentarily. She felt hands grip her by the arm and neck, and jerk her to her feet and forward. She tried to lash around but the grip was too tight, and she could hear laughter.

"Jonathan, you bastard," she hissed.

"That's no way to speak to your brother, Clarissa," Jonathan said sagely, and then gave her a shake, causing her head to snap back and forth. "I'm quite hurt."

"Not yet you're not," Jace snarled from behind them. "Not until I'm done with you."

"Listen to these two, Father," said Jonathan with a note of amusement in his voice. "You'd think they'd have some sense by now."

"Perhaps Jace, but not Clarissa," said Valentine, and when Clary was pulled out into the light, she saw her father standing before her with a polite smile on his face. "I suppose she's just a bad influence on him, is all. Oh well, it will hardly matter soon; a few weeks out in the country and she'll see reason."

See reason, she thought mutinously. I'll see reason the day you're rolling over in your grave.

"Don't you think it'll be a bit suspicious," Jace asked, while Valentine and Jonathan led them out of the cellar and into the backyard caught in the strange blue light of pre-dawn, "when people see that your daughter and I have simply vanished?"

"Not especially, seeing as I rarely let you two out anyway," Valentine said indifferently.

"My mom will tell," Clary said through her teeth.

Valentine came to a halt and very slowly, turned to face his daughter. His smile dropped and instead, he stared at her with his hard, grey eyes. "Your mother will do as I say from now if she doesn't wish to see you buried in a grave."

"Leave her alone! Can't you see she hates you?" Clary ordered.

Valentine moved toward her so quickly she thought he was going to strike her. Jonathan loosened his grip on her neck a bit and Jace stepped closer, but he only grabbed her chin and forced her to look up into his face which was inched from hers. "You're a poison, Clarissa; everything you touch, you ruin. Your mother loved me before you came along, and after that, she turned against me. Jace was my son before he met you, and now, he too, despises me. Even Lucian was my ally, but he met you-"

"You told Luke to kill himself!" Clary spat.

"It would have been the right thing to do," Valentine answered curtly. "But he didn't, he helped your mother instead, and she was only working against me because she was pregnant-with you. Can't you see, Clarissa, how you have ruined everything good? Friendships? Wives? Sons?"

"It's not me," Clary hissed. "You're just too stuck up in that huge head of yours to notice."

Valentine raised his eyebrows and then smiled again, but there was no humor to it, and only served to make his face more cold and calculating. "We shall see then, won't we? With you gone, it will be only me and Jonathan to have your mother's love and attention, and when Lucian returns, Jocelyn will tell him otherwise. I'm sure even Jace will tire of constantly looking after you soon, and when that day comes, where will you turn? When your mother and your friends and the man you love desert you, who will you look to for help?"

Clary felt her mouth dry at the prospect, but she noticed too that some of it was true. She was constantly leading Jace into danger, getting him hurt, and her mother would have to tell Lucian to surrender if her life was on the line. Valentine saw this and was about to say more, but Jace spoke.

"I'm not going to desert Clary no matter what you do to me," he said firmly. "There's no point threatening her with that."

Valentine's gaze narrowed but he continued smiled. "Then you two can suffer together."

Before Clary or Jace could reply, Valentine jerked his head and Jonathan dragged Clary away, Jace trailing dourly. They came around to the front of the house where three horses were waiting, flicking their ears and pawing at the ground. One of the horses was loaded with sacks and packages and the other two with saddles. Before Clary knew what she had done, her feet dug into the dirt.

But he's not sending us away now? I'll get to see my mom, won't I? Clary wondered, but then shook her head. She should have known that Valentine was going to send her off with no word from her mother. Clary struggled to turn in Jonathan's arms to see the front of the house and the windows that looked down from the master room, but it was black. Mom?

"Move," Jonathan growled and shoved her.

"Jonathan," said Valentine, drawing up to the first horse, "it'll take you most of the day to get out to the Manor, but once you're there, make sure these two don't just slouch off to bed. Clary needs to start training."

Jace looked outraged that Clary would spend a day in the saddle and then a night of training, but Jonathan merely nodded. "I'll send word once we've arrived."

"Look for me at the end of week, I'll have a portal made," said Valentine, and then his gaze flicked to Clary. "You had better have your ducks in a row when I arrive, Clarissa."

"If you hurt my mom-"

This time, Valentine did slap her, and she fell back against Jonathan, her cheek stinging. Jace might have moved forward, she didn't know, because when Clary did open her eyes, she found that Jonathan was lifting her up into the saddle of one of the horses and lashing her wrists to the saddle. She struggled a bit, and he tightened the ropes until her hands stung from slow blood flow. Almost at once, Jace swung himself up and fitted his arms about Clary, but Jonathan took those too and tied him down as well.

"I'll hardly be able to lead the horse if I'm tied to the saddle," Jace observed.

In response, Jonathan found a length of cloth sticking out of one of the bags and stuffed Jace's mouth with it. "I think this trip will go so much better without your colorful commentary." He turned and headed to his horse, but before he pulled himself up, he tied a length of rope from their horse to his.

"End of the week then," said Jonathan tiredly, as if the next few days would be his punishment instead of theirs.

Valentine tipped his head and Jonathan urged the horse onward. Clary twisted about in the saddle once more, elbowing Jace in the stomach by accident, and searched the face of the house for her mother. The rising sun cast its bright light, though, and the windows reflected back such bright light it burned Clary's eyes. She dropped her gaze and found that Valentine was watching her, his hands clasped behind his back, and a smirk all over his face. She swiveled back in the saddle, unable to bear his smug face, and contented herself to watch the sun rise and Jonathan's lone, dark figure cutting a path in its light.

Alec

"Did you hear me? We have to go back!" No one answered her so Isabelle breathed out heavily through her nose. "We have to go back. I'm not leaving Jace with Valentine and Jonathan."

"Give it a break, Izzy," said Alec tiredly. He had been feeling an empty sensation for hours since they had run off from Alicante, and no matter how hard he tried to find solace in the fact he was free, he was met again and again with the undeniable truth that he still didn't have his brother back. Jace is still gone, worse than gone, he's with Valentine, and who knows what that man will do.

Isabelle must have known something of how Alec was feeling because she shut her mouth, though her eyes still burned with anger and that Lightwood fire. How could they expect her to accept leaving Jace behind? How could they just run off when Valentine had their friends and family in his grasp?

"We're running away," said Isabelle moodily after a bit, and though she didn't aim the comment at Alec, he was the one who responded.

"So what?" he snapped. Magnus, who was used to Alec's levelheadedness turned about to looked at him. "Of course we're running away, what else could we do? Demand Valentine, Jonathan, and all his armies return our friends under threat of our measly weapons? There was a reason Jace wanted us to go if things went wrong: Valentine. He knew how much danger we'd be in if Valentine turned up, so what does it matter? We couldn't have helped anyway."

Isabelle stared at Alec, her mouth slightly parted. "I didn't mean that we were doing something wrong."

"Then what did you mean?" Alec replied sharply. "That running away was clearly the right thing to do and we should always do it?"

"No, Alec, I-"

"It doesn't matter how much you complain, Izzy, it doesn't change the fact that we were out of our depth with him. This was the only choice." As if to challenge anyone else in their dour party, Alec cast a glower toward Magnus, who was looking concerned, Simon, at Isabelle's side, and Luke's turned back.

After a moment, Alec realized that Luke hadn't turned around at all since they'd fled from the Morgenstern household, and it only then hit Alec that maybe Luke was in just as much pain as he was. After all, he loved Jocelyn and Clary, and knowing that Valentine was probably doing something awful to them wouldn't put him in a good mindset. And neither, Alec thought after a beat, would that last image of Clary we got.

Alec shuddered. Jonathan had hit her hard enough to make sure head swing back and shaking her back and forth like she was a ragdoll only made her look more vulnerable. For Luke, who thought of Clary as a daughter, it must have been akin to torture. He certainly had enough pain in his eyes as they ran.

"We'll get them back, though, won't we?" Alec ventured in much gentler voice now. "We can gather an army and fight back?"

"It'll take a bit of time," said Magnus when Luke didn't answer. "We'll have to find the survivors of the war, convince them to join us, and then plan an attack."

"Where would they have gone?" Simon asked carefully, watching Alec.

"Everywhere," said Magnus heavily. "Anywhere that was safe. There are ways of reaching them, of course, but it'll take time and safety. We need to leave Idris as soon as we can."

"And go where?" Isabelle asked curiously.

Magnus raised his eyebrows and then turned his focus on Luke, who had been determinedly not speaking. After a few more moments, he came to a halt and turned to face them. In the light of the moon, his face looked drained of color, but his eyes were shockingly yellow and wolfish. The powerful gaze flicked from one anxious face to another and he ran a hand through his shaggy hair.

"I'm thinking back to New York," he said finally.

"New York?" Alec rasped, looking completely confused. "Of all the places we could go, wouldn't that be the one Valentine suspects?"

"Maybe," admitted Luke, "but you have to consider the position he's in at the moment. It's only been a few months since his reformation, and he's still in the process of ordering the Clave, divvying out new titles, forming new armies. He's not prepared to go on a man hunt. And besides, New York is huge; do you know how hard it will be to find us there? We're not going back to my pack territory, we're not going to Magnus's apartment, and we're not going to the Institute. We'll go into hiding somewhere a bit more inconspicuous. He'll have a hard time finding us in that mess."

Alec saw the logic in it, but he was still having a hard time believing that Valentine wouldn't be able to track them down in the city they had all called home for more than a decade. "You think we'll be able to find more Downworlders?"

"I'm sure they'll be looking for some answers," said Luke with a dark smile, "and I'm sure I can give them to them."

Just what we need while we're on the run. A pack of furious Downworlders going for our throats, thought Alec when Magnus looked pleasantly surprised.

Jocelyn

She would have moved to watch her daughter and Jace being sent away, but Valentine had marked with a rune, paralyzing her legs, arms, and torso. She lay in her bed in the dark, listening to the sounds that wafted up in the early morning: the horses, Jonathan and Valentine's excited talk, Clary's outraged voice. She turned her head and stared at the great windows, willing herself to move, to see her daughter's face one last time, but they remained far from her reach. Instead, she was forced to watch the sun peek above the tree tops and spread its light far and wide and know that even as the light touched her face, her daughter was gone.

He's taken her, he's taken her away and there's nothing I can do. I failed my daughter. I had one duty to Clary, and that was to protect her, and I couldn't even do that. Jocelyn felt a tear trickle down her face and blot the pillows. I failed Clary and I failed Jace, too. That poor boy Valentine stole…I was supposed to protect him from this, and look where it's gotten us.

"I do hope those tears aren't because of me," said Valentine politely. Jocelyn turned her head about and found him standing in the door, smiling his most charming smile. "I would have thought you trusted me enough now Jocelyn. What I do, I do for you." Jocelyn bared her teeth in a silent snarl and Valentine came across the room and flicked out a stele. "I'll free you from the rune, but you must swear on the Angel you won't do anything…rash. No hitting me, no running away, no more crying, either." He threw this last request in with a dark look at her tears. "I love you, Jocelyn."

Jocelyn watched him while he reached down and pulled up her nightgown until it rested above her hip. She hated the sight of his hands on her legs, and despised her own helplessness as he pat her thigh, like she was a horse. He gently rolled her sideways and found the rune he's placed on her hip. After a moment, a rush like cool water flowed over Jocelyn and she felt free to move again. She remained sedentary, aware that any action on her part could be met with his anger.

"You know, it's really me that should be shedding tears," observed Valentine, and Jocelyn felt herself flare up. "You were the one who betrayed me with your scheming and your backhandedness. You wanted to supplant me, didn't you?"

Jocelyn could feel herself shaking with rage. He thinks I should pity him after I watched him beat my daughter? After he took my friends and locked them up? After he hunted me down like I was something he'd lost? Slowly, Jocelyn sat up, her back straight and her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I wanted to kill you."

"Not very loyal, my dear," was Valentine's even response, and his hand snapped out and grasped a hunk of her hair. She gasped, but he spoke over her. "I have given you everything. A home, a family, your daughter and your son. I made you the most powerful woman in the world, the second most powerful person in the world. I would have given you anything else you wanted, and this is how you repay me?"

"Unless you were going to slit your own throat, I can't see you giving me what I wanted."

Valentine stood up and Jocelyn, still in his grasp, was forced up with him. He dragged her to the closet, which he threw open. "Look what I gave you! And here," he tugged her along to the window where she could see all of Alicante laid out before, "even more. What have I done that has so upset you?"

He really doesn't know. He really doesn't realize what a cruel man he is. Before Jocelyn could answer Valentine threw her into a chair, which slid back a bit on the wood floor by the force of his throw. He leaned over her, placing either of his hands on the arms of the chair and forcing her to look into his face. Valentine's eyes were blank, searching her face for an answer. He can't see what awful things he's done because he thinks he was right in doing them.

"You hate Clary," Jocelyn gasped. "You hate the thing I love."

"I wouldn't hate her if you didn't love her," he answered smoothly. "You were mine once, Jocelyn, the only person I ever loved. The only thing I was willing to suffer for. Jonathan didn't change that. Your friends didn't change that. Why did she have to?"

"She is your daughter, and you should love her, not be jealous of her," answered Jocelyn coldly.

"She's no daughter of mine. I wouldn't have allowed such a poor excuse for a woman to grow up that way: no proper training, no dignity, no respect. She's worthless, good only for the power she gives me over Jace."

"And me," said Jocelyn in a soft, bitter voice.

"Not anymore," said Valentine in clipped tones. Jocelyn's eyes moved up to his face, and she found that he had sat down across from her, his previous anger forgotten. She eyed him carefully before speaking.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Do you not wish to have more children?" asked Valentine casually, his eyes stroking her body. "Is that why you took the herbs?"

Be careful, he's not in his right mind. "I didn't think now was the appropriate time."

"You're lying to me, Jocelyn."

She smiled. "No, I do not want to have children. Not with you, leastways."

"If you're referring to that beast-"

"I am speaking of Luke, yes," said Jocelyn cheerily, enjoying the look of fury on Valentine's face. "I love him."

"That's unfortunate," said Valentine. "I was going to kill him quickly and painlessly when this was all over, in honor of our shared history, but…this changes everything. I suppose now his death will have to long and arduous and quite painful. I'll do it for you."

Jocelyn felt a sudden urge to lunge across the small space between them and throttle Valentine but she contented herself with an airy sigh. "Perhaps. Or maybe Luke will kill you for me."

One of Valentine's eyebrows raised up, but he looked more amused than concerned. "Luke once said he wouldn't kill me before my own children, so I highly doubt he will take a father away from a child."

"Luke is Clary's father," said Jocelyn coldly. "He raised her, he loved her, he would never treat her like you did."

"First, we have discussed that matter, and as I've said, Clarissa needed to be taught. Second, and more importantly, I wasn't referring to Clarissa." He waited while Jocelyn frowned, and when she didn't answer, he continued. "Why don't you want to have more children?"

Jocelyn, who had been trying to figure out what he meant, jumped a little when he spoke. She looked up and saw him watching her closely, trying to unravel something about her. "I don't want them growing up in this world."

"I would protect them, Jocelyn," he said seriously. "They could have no better father than me. They would have a future ready-made for them, a loving family, the best of everything."

"At what price would it all come?" she asked darkly. "What would you make them do to earn your love?"

Valentine looked down at his hands for a moment before looking up. "I admit that I made a mistake with Clarissa. I didn't intend to have a daughter like that, and I didn't know you were pregnant." Jocelyn opened her mouth to argue, but Valentine held up a hand. "I also made a mistake with Jonathan and Jace. They shouldn't have been this way either."

Jonathan? Jocelyn wondered. She knew he had hated Clary, but he seemed to show some kindness to his son. "What do you mean?"

"I don't pretend that what I did with them was right; I shouldn't have experimented on them so. It's ruined my children, all of them, but I know now what I must do."

She waited. "And that is?"

"I told Clarissa she ruined everything she touched, and that is true, but it's not her fault, it's her nature. And Jonathan and Jace are too violent and volatile, but that is their nature too." He turned to look out the window, like he was seeing something far away. "This is a new age, Jocelyn, and I must start anew. Clarissa, Jonathan, and Jace belong to the past, a very dark uncertain past where soldiers were needed. This is an age of guardian ship and celebration; we must forget the past now and look to the future."

He's going to kill them, Jocelyn thought with waking horror. He can't bear his own guilt so he's going to kill them. "Valentine, no, you can't just remove your children. I won't let you."

He shot her a smirk. "I hardly think you're in the position to argue. I've already sent them away, and soon, I will destroy all three of them. It's time you and I turned to the future."

Jocelyn stood up, her heart pounding. "Don't. I know you hate them, but they're my children and I love them"

"We'll have more children," he answered simply. "We can finally have the family we want, Jocelyn, not this rag tag assortment of experiments."

"Valentine-"

"They don't belong here," he thundered, his face dark, and stood as well. "All they are is a reminder of a very dark and bitter past and I don't want that. You and I will have a family, and we will be happy, and our children won't grow up hating or fearing their father."

He'll kill them. He'll kill Clary and Jace as soon as he gets there. "Yes, yes alright!" she cried, snatching his arm. "We can have a family, but please don't kill them." He studied her face closely and she continued breathlessly, "How will it matter if you leave them out in country? As long as no one knows where they've gone, as long as no one every sees them again, how will it matter? You and I can have a family, we can start again, but please, Valentine, please, don't kill them"

"They could escape," said Valentine evenly.

"You told me you kept Jonathan in the house by drawing a ring of runes. You could do that again, couldn't you? Take away their weapons, take away the steles and draw a ring of runes. Clary could probably draw you a rune that would tie them to the house itself." Jocelyn knew she sounded desperate, and she knew Valentine would sense her fear, but there was a curious look on his face. "They don't have to die, they just have to be kept away. No one will go looking for them, and you and I can start a new family, and people will forget them."

"Would you forget them?" Valentine asked sharply.

Say yes, tell him you'll forget all about Clary and Jace, and think only of him and the children you'll have. "I-I suppose I'll be so busy with the family that I wouldn't think of them often…"

"But you won't forget," finished Valentine coldly.

"Please," said Jocelyn softly, and she could feel her throat choking up with tears. "I love my daughter and I love Jace, and I'll never stop, but I can love other children and I can love you. I won't forget them, but I can promise to love my new children too."

Valentine was staring at her with a hard look. "You must understand why I have trouble believing that."

"Please."

He turned away from her and went to the window, thinking. "I'll let them live, Jocelyn, I'll do as you say and imprison them in the house, but you will have to swear to give me a family, and you will have to swear to love your family."

"I swear on the Angel," she said breathlessly, unbelievably grateful her daughter had been spared.

He crossed his arms and faced her. "I want to trust you, but trust is something that must be earned and I find your recent behavior most untrustworthy."

"I'm sorry for that."

"Until I say otherwise, you're not to leave this house unless escorted by me." Jocelyn bit her lip but bowed her head; she'd been expecting that. "You won't mention Clarissa, Jonathan, or Jace to me again."

Her eyes widened. "But, Valentine-"

"Their lives for a family, that was the agreement, and I won't have you split on the matter. They get to keep their lives, but that's all."

What's the alternative? "Alright."

"Good," said Valentine curtly. "It's early, Jocelyn, why don't you go back to bed?"

She glanced askance at the bed. "I'm not tired."

"I had no intention of you sleeping," he said, and she felt her blood run cold.

"Can't we wait?" she asked plaintively.

Valentine's face was set when he said, "No."